I Have to Say
by Loony-Lily
Summary: “The photo was taken in sixth year. Four years ago. It’s really hard to believe, isn’t it?” It’s the final part to My “Choose Her” universe. Ron’s POV.
1. Highlighting the Small Problem of Love

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the assiciated characters.  
Rating: PG  
Ships: RW/HG but mainly concerned with HP/RW  
Warnings: Implied slash. nothing major.  
Author Note: Thank you to all the people who have read and reviewed the preceeding fics to this: Choose Her and Why Him?. If you haven't read those, please read them now or this won't make sense. Love to you all. R&R  
Indigo Ink.  
  
I don't know what to do. I don't know what to think. My life was great. I had a great best friend. A great girlfriend. My family was proud of me and university was going fine. But all of a sudden, it was flipped and things started to go wrong.  
  
Hermione asked me to move in with her. You already knew that. She doesn't want me to hang out with you as much either. I just don't know if I can do that. I love her. We've been going out for four years. But, you're my best friend. I've known you longer than her, though not by much.   
  
I'm alone in the flat just now. One of the rare times you're out. You hardly ever go out anymore. Only really to go to class or to get a pint of milk or something. I do most of the shopping. I go out at night. I always feel bad leaving you alone and even worse when I come home to a steaming cup of tea. You can't stand the stuff but you feel as though you need to hide it from me so that my feelings aren't hurt or something.   
  
You're a great actor though. At first I didn't know why you even took drama. You were so quiet. You still are. Somehow, you always make me feel better without saying anything. It's a wonder really.   
  
The flat feels empty without you. I would usually be out with Hermione just now but she said she wanted to come here. I was slightly surprised really. She rarely comes over. I don't know why you two grew apart but it just complicates matters at the moment. If you were still as close as we were, in say sixth year, maybe I wouldn't have to think about moving. Maybe, just maybe we'd all live together.  
  
I've been waiting for half an hour. Is she doing this to spite me for all the times I've been late? Or is it a genuine mistake?  
  
I really need a cup of tea but I can't even boil water without something going wrong. Your tea is the best I've ever had. Everyone's tried to imitate it but it never comes out quite right. You must just have a special touch or something. I've met people who love tea almost as much as I do and they can't even make a decent cup. Hermione for example.  
  
Hermione. It's been a week since she asked. I'm so confused. I'm so lucky to have both of you and I should have known that it wouldn't last. Hermione keeps pressuring me for an answer but you stay quiet. I'm grateful for that but does it mean you don't want me here?  
  
I hear keys turning in the lock and the door swings open to reveal you. Your ebony hair is tousled and there are dark rings under your eyes. Have you been sleeping? I can see ink spreading up the middle finger of your right hand and know automatically that you've been writing. It's strange that as soon as you step inside, I can feel a sort of calm wash over me and I almost forget about the coming meeting with Hermione.  
  
Your t-shirt is crumpled dirty and your baggy jeans are covered in drying mud.   
  
you jump, having not really noticed me sitting there. I stand and move to your side, What happened to you?  
  
You turn to face me and I see a painful looking, purple bruise spreading up the side of your pale face and a cut across your left eyebrow that's oozing blood.  
  
Sorry Ron. Didn't see you there. Didn't really expect you to be home.  
  
You're avoiding my question. I'm slightly put out. How many times has this happened? Why didn't you tell me? We're supposed to be best friends...  
  
It's never happened before Ron. Your voice is so quiet I can barely hear it. It's freaky when you answer questions I didn't even ask out loud.  
  
I sigh in relief, Sorry I just.. I was worried is all. I'm home because Hermione wanted to meet me here.  
  
You nod, closing your eyes in pain. Oh. Look, uh, Ron, I'm going to go and get cleaned up. Do we still have aspirin?  
  
Yeah, we do. Do you need anything?  
  
You half open your eyes and smile gratefully at me but shake your head. Your feet make a shuffling noise on the floor. I wish I could help you.  
  
I make my way to the kitchen but the door goes before I get there. I pause. I know it's her behind the wood, so why am I reluctant to let her in?  
  
I hear the shower going on from your bathroom and I know it's safe to let her in just now. She knocks again. She's always been impatient.  
  
I open the door, full of dread. I really don't know if I can handle this when you're in the next room, beaten up. Hermione is standing there with a shoe box under her arm.  
  
She doesn't look happy. She walks into the living room and drops the box onto our coffee table. I suddenly wish you hadn't come home early.  
  
He's here. It's not a question.   
  
  
  
She sighs deeply, I was kind of hoping we would be alone.  
  
He's beat up pretty badly. You won't see him. Please don't come in. PLEASE don't come in!   
  
Do you know what's in the box?  
  
Hermione has never been one for asking stupid questions, so I start to wonder what she's up to. I shake my head silently.  
  
She motions for me to sit so I flop into my chair. It's just habit and it suddenly feels weird when I look over and it's her that's sitting in your chair. I feel slightly nervous so I sit forward. Why do I get nervous around her now? I used to feel relaxed and comfortable. Like when I'm with you.  
  
Hermione starts to take out some of the contents of the box. Several pieces of parchment are laid out on the wooden table. I groan as I recognize the untidy scrawl, Why did you bring my love letters?  
  
I wrote them when I first started going out with her. With some help from you. You just seemed to know exactly what to say to her to make her feel good. You can still so that. My heart stops beating so wildly. Is this all? Does she just want to remember old times?  
  
My hopes are dashed when she doesn't answer and just continues to remove things from the box. Jewellery, photographs, newspaper clippings are all laid out. I'm beginning to think there's a spell on the box, like there was on our Ford Anglia, (you know, the one to make it bigger on the inside?) when Hermione lifts out single piece of yellowing parchment, about the size of your diaries. She just looks at it for a moment. The silence echoes through the flat and I realise now that you've finished your shower.  
  
Hermione looks up at me now. Her brown eyes filled with a kind of sorrow and sympathy.  
  
What i-  
  
It's a page from Harry's Seventh year diary. What?   
  
How did you get that? A diary's supposed to be private. I spring to your defense. You're my best friend after all.  
  
It's the reason Harry and I don't really talk anymore. I tore it out when we had an arguement, She passes the paper to me and I see your neat, loopy handwriting covering the page, I thought you should see it, before you make your decision. I don't want to. That's private. I couldn't ever read anything that someone didn't want me to see.  
  
She presses the page into my hands and I chance a look at her. She's looking down at the floor. There are no sounds of movement from your room. I glance at the parchment, but then I can't stop reading it.  
  
_March 18th 1998  
  
I caught myself again just in time today. He almost found out. He can never find out. He's going out with Hermione for God's sake!   
  
But I can't help the way I feel.   
  
It's crazy. I'm in love with my best friend. Who just happens to be a guy.  
  
I can never let him find out. I love him so much. I don't want to hurt him. He's happy with Mione and I know he only likes me as a friend.   
  
I'm a freak.  
  
WHY DO I HAVE TO FEEL THIS WAY?!? Ron would hate me if he found out. Why are the fates so cruel? Why does everything happen to me? Why do I have to love him?  
  
_I'm stunned. Shocked. This can't be true. Tell me it isn't true. Please....  
  
I just thought you should know. Her voice sounds as though she was far away.  
  
I have to say Harry, I'm hurt. Not because of the way you feel. Not because you like guys. Not because you love me.  
  
No. I'm hurt, because you didn't tell me. You were supposed to be my best friend. I can tell you that it wouldn't have changed anything. Why didn't you tell me? Why?  
  
Is this the reason you came home as though you'd been run over by a hoard of angry Hippogriffs today? How did they find out?  
  
I'm still holding the paper when the door to your room creaks open. You stand there with still wet hair, a bruised face and a slightly damp t-shirt on.   
  
Your voice is quiet and your entrancing eyes full of question and concern.  
  
What's going on?  
  
Why Harry? Please tell me. Because I just realised, I love you too.


	2. Unluckiest Man

Summery: "I need you to be confident enough, brave enough, Gryffindor enough to tell me." Ron comes to a decision about his problem concerning Harry and Hermione. Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the associated characters. We all know the drill. Rating: PG Ships: Implied RW/HG but mostly RW/HP Warnings: Implied slash. Nothing major. Author Note: Thank you to all the people who have read and reviewed the preceding fics to this: "Choose Her" and "Why Him?" If you haven't read those, please read them now or this won't make sense. Love to you all. R&R Indigo Ink.  
  
***** bI Have to Say- Chapter 2/b  
  
Things just keep getting worse for me. My heart is conflicted. I love Hermione. Have done for the past four years. We go out almost every night and she's beautiful, smart and she already knows all of my faults. We have a history. I know her favourite flower. Her favourite musical. I know almost every detail of her life.  
  
But then I find out that you love me. Then I find out I love you. I just thought you were my best friend. My brother almost, but none of my other brothers or my sister make me feel like this. Like I'm floating above the snow coloured clouds and that I'm totally relaxed and free. You with your scruffy appearance, messy ebony hair and bright, intelligent emerald eyes. You're just as smart as she is. You're just as stunningly beautiful, even more so, in your own way. You're also funny and charming and shy. I don't know why I didn't realize before. I'm totally, hopelessly, head over heels in love with you.  
  
You don't know that I know that you're in love with me. That's the problem. I can't just walk up to you and grab your face, smashing my lips into yours. I'm far too British for that. I need you to tell me. I need you to be confident enough, brave enough, Gryffindor enough to tell me. You were the brave one. You were the one who put things right. Why can't you do it now?  
  
I don't know how long you've been hiding this from me and when I first found out I was confused and hurt. The confused part didn't take long to disappear but I still feel like you don't trust me. Hermione doesn't know how long either. She's really mad at me just now and I don't think we're going to last much longer. Maybe if I move in with her, we can sort things out because I do love her. I love her so much, it's just...  
  
She purposely tried to hurt you. And by doing so, she's hurt me too. It's amazing that I managed to act my way out of revealing the writing on the diary sized piece of paper in my hand to you. I usually can't lie my way out of a paper bag. The parchment on which your true feelings are written is now lying in my bedside table's drawer. I didn't give it back to Hermione. It's been a month and I managed to keep Hermione, you and my family from finding out how I feel. I'm exhausted!  
  
How the hell did you keep it a secret since at least Seventh Year? I must be one of the unluckiest guys in the world. I don't remember breaking a mirror recently. I haven't come across any ladders to walk under. And the only cat I've seen is Mrs. Jones' ginger downstairs. So how the hell could this happen?  
  
My life was a fairytale. Most people would kill to have what I had just for one day. Now... I don't know what it is now, but I can tell you that it's far from Happy Ever After.  
  
I'm brought out of my musings as a steaming cup of tea is placed on the coffee table and your smiling face comes into my line of vision. Your cheeky grin is forced and your eyes betray your real feelings. It's been this way since Hermione asked me to move in with her. You act as though you wouldn't mind which ever I choose. And now it's Christmas Eve and your mask of cheerfulness is in full use, even before my relatives arrive. You're always trying to protect me.  
  
"You okay?"  
  
I can't speak. I just nod. My throat feels as if it's closed up and my lips have been padlocked together. I've lost the key too.  
  
Your smile diminishes slightly and you open your mouth to say something.  
  
TAP! TAP, TAP, TAP!  
  
The door. My family has the worst sense of timing, myself included. Why do you think we were nearly always late for the train?  
  
You shrug and move to open the door. I get up to greet my parents.  
  
Dad shakes my hand and mum hugs me then she goes back over to you and starts fussing over the state of your clothes, how thin you are and the fresh bruising and cuts on your face.  
  
You come home everyday with extra wounds. You didn't look this bad after the Final Battle... Why won't you just tell someone, the police, anyone to make it stop?  
  
The rest of the group arrives and you disappear into the kitchen again, followed by my mother who is nagging you to let her help. I don't know if she thinks that you're such a terrible cook that you'll give us all salmonella or something but you still insist everything is fine and that she should just rest.  
  
You seem to take care of everyone else before yourself. Why are you making this decision so hard?!  
  
The table is set and my family; Neville and Hermione are seated around it. A well-placed engorgement charm let us have this family Christmas you wanted so much. Did you think it would be your last chance?  
  
"Ron?" Hermione slips her hand into mine. I shiver internally but clasp her hand and give it a squeeze. It would look slightly odd to my family if I didn't touch her. "Merry Christmas."  
  
"Yeah 'Mione," I'm still looking at the door where you disappeared, "Merry Christmas."  
  
******  
  
I have no clue what mum was worrying about, the food was delicious. You don't talk about your time at the Dursley's much so I don't know if they taught you how to cook or you picked it up yourself, but boy, can you cook.  
  
Everyone has emptied their plates... except you. You took the least of all of us and you just seem to have pushed it around on your plate. Why do you do that? I'm seriously worried about. Is it because you think I'm leaving? Or is it something else?  
  
Hermione keeps shooting you looks all evening, as if you had done something else wrong. I don't like it. She doesn't even know you anymore. Why do the two people I love hate each other?  
  
I look between you and her. Suddenly, a feeling of realisation and... calm, washes over me. In fancy terms, I think it's called an epiliphany? No, that's not right. Epiph... epiph... epiphany! That's it. As I look between you I reach and epiphany.  
  
You're charming, witty, handsome and generous. But Hermione, she's also all these things.  
  
Somehow, I just know. I know what I'm going to do, who I'm going to live with. I hope you understand why I'm doing this afterwards.  
  
I stand and clear my throat. "I know everyone's been waiting for a long time for me to decide what I'm going to do with my life. Well, Harry, Hermione. I've made my decision."  
  
TBC  
  
I know, I know! Please don't kill me! All will be revealed in the next and final chapter of this. Please R&R. Peace to the world and all. 


	3. My Name is Ron Weasley

Summery: "The photo was taken in sixth year. Four years ago. It's really hard to believe, isn't it?" It's the final part to My "Choose Her" universe. Ron's POV. Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the associated characters. We all know the drill. Rating: PG Ships: Implied RW/HG and implied RW/HP Warnings: Implied slash. Nothing major. Author Note: Thank you to all the people who have read and reviewed the preceding fics to this: "Choose Her" and "Why Him?" Your all listed after the fic. Also I am going to include a sneak preview of another fic I'm working on. If you haven't read those, please read them now or this won't make sense. Love to you all. R&R Indigo Ink.  
  
The crates fill up the seemingly cleared out half of the flat. I always thought you were supposed to have more space when you moved things out, not less. But we always had to be the exception to the rule. We managed to escape the clutches of expulsion and death time and time again.  
  
I guess we won't be doing that anymore.  
  
I thought we'd be together through the Grown-up years then well into old- people-dom. I wish you were here just now, helping me or even just sitting and talking to me. But you can't be here.  
  
I shake myself slightly. This needs to be done. Hermione said she'd be round to help later. I wish I could have some tea but only you can make it how I like it.  
  
"Ron," I look around to see my little sister struggling with a particularly heavy box, "Little help here please."  
  
"Sorry, Gin." I lift it from her arms place it on the top of another. It really is heavy, just like my heart. You could always cheer me up, with a cup of tea, a cheery smile or a comforting hug. I guess none of that will happen anymore. I won't see you anymore to have any of these things.  
  
Ginny's looking at me in a funny way; sort of half worry, half confusion.  
  
"I'm fine Ginny."  
  
"No Ron," She looks at me with her big chocolate brown eyes, so different from my own blue, then wraps her small arms around my broad shoulders as best she can. "You don't have to be strong all the time. It's okay to tell me things, you know. Worries, funny stories, anything."  
  
I can't tell her though. She doesn't know just how strongly I feel for you. She never will and you won't either. "I know Gin-Gin. I know."  
  
She steps back and smiles slightly. "I know there's still more to pack, but Neville's waiting for me and-"  
  
"No problem," She's giving me that look, the puppy-dog one that I can't resist no matter what. You know the one, she' used it on you too so don't pretend you don't.  
  
She nod, then, after a moments hesitation, she leans up and kisses me on the cheek, "You made the right decision Ron. It may not seem like it now, but you did."  
  
I can't even nod so I just look at the ground. It was so hard to decide at first but I guess you and Hermione really made the decision for me.  
  
"I need to keep packing. The movers are coming to put some stuff into storage for me soon."  
  
**"Little to the right Ron. No, more. Little more, more, litt- STOP!"  
  
"Harry, just take the bloody picture!" "Okay, okay! Sheesh, hold your horses."  
  
"Sorry. It's ju-" CLICK!  
  
"HARRY!"  
  
Your laughter rang through the air. You hadn't laughed in such a long time, not since before Hermione and I started going out. You still look bad from the Flying Incident but at least we managed to patch things up. It's really hard to stay mad at you when you laugh like that.  
  
Your eyes sparkled with mirth and your messy black hair was blowing everywhere in the breeze.  
  
"Sorry Ron. I'll try again. It's just the new 'Polaroid' effect that's getting me." I had, and still have, no clue as to what a 'Polaroid' is, so I just shook my head and smiled.  
  
"I have a better idea Harry."  
  
You raised an eyebrow and shrugged. **  
  
The photo was taken in sixth year. Four years ago. It's really hard to believe, isn't it? Our arms are around the other's shoulders and we're both flashing our cheesy grins to the camera. Occasionally, you'll stick your tongue out at me as I look at us. But when other people come and look, you tend to shy away and my photo-self has to drag you back in, not always successfully.  
  
You never liked attention, even less after you go knocked from your broom. Malfoy just wouldn't leave you alone, the git, even though you caught the Snitch while he was still busy trying to get back on his own broom. I wish I'd paid a bit more attention back then, maybe none of this would have happened. I wouldn't have had to make the choice. I wouldn't be the Breaker of Hearts and I certainly wouldn't be packing this stuff away now.  
  
Our photo-selves are sticking their tongues out and crossing their eyes. Were we ever that bad? I know photos are supposed to capture people's personalities but we were never THAT bad. Please tell me we weren't that bad!  
  
A timid knock alerts me to Hermione's presence but I don't look up from our photo.  
  
"Hey Ron," She sounds worried and sympathetic. She knows this is hard for me and she's letting me take my time with packing. "You need any help?"  
  
I look into her eyes and I know she just wants something to keep me, and her I suppose, busy. It's hard for her too. She doesn't like seeing me hurt or in pain. She doesn't like seeing you hurt either. Even if it didn't seem like it at first.  
  
I nod and she starts to lift some of the lighter boxes to see if anything else can go in them. I don't let go of the photograph.  
  
I pick up the latest addition to your collection of scripts and flick through the pages. Your talent for writing never ceases to amaze me. You can capture emotions in carefully chosen words and phrases and I think that's because you write what you feel. Lately, your work has been full of sorrow and pain but with an underlying love that shines through in the characters' dialogue and movements.  
  
The punching and kicking didn't stop. You just kept getting weaker and your stupid stubbornness didn't allow you to turn to the police or the University Dean. That's what caused the pain in your writing.  
  
A gentle hand on my shoulder makes me jump.  
  
"The movers are here Ron."  
  
"Okay."  
  
I put the script down into the box in front of me and then tape the lid shut. I look at the picture again and our teensleves are just smiling at each other now. I put the picture back on the coffee table. I can always see it when I come back.  
  
My family has the worst sense of timing in the world. Myself included, but not when it comes to you. Three months ago, when I announced to my family and friends that I wanted to be with you, I did it just in time. It didn't save you but you'll always be here, because I love you.  
  
I love you. You loved me. And the world knew it. Even though you're gone, I'll always, for all eternity and forever, love you.  
  
My name is Ron Weasley, and I have to say: I was loved.  
  
THANKS TO EVERYONE WHO READS AND REVIEWS THIS CHAPTER.  
  
And a big thanks to Cass of the Netherworlds, whose review inspired me to  
fix the chapter. 


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